Read Who Invited the Ghost to Dinner: A Ghost Writer Mystery Online
Authors: Teresa Watson
“D
o you have your phone handy?” Mike asked me as he stood up.
“Um, no, I left it in my bag on our table.”
He started to walk away, but I reached out to stop him. “Mike, her husband is here.”
“Where?” he said, looking toward the audience.
“Sitting in the far right corner.”
He peered out into the crowd. “I can’t see anything with those Klieg lights blinding me.”
“Why don’t I get Richard to close the curtains, and then I’ll go get Joey?”
“I’ll grab my phone to call dispatch. I’ll get Randy to round up some people to guard the doors so no one leaves.”
Diane was still shaking, so I motioned for Simon to come over. “I’m guessing there is real alcohol in one of those decanters. Get her a shot of brandy or whatever you have over there. And don’t go anywhere.”
Richard appeared just as I turned around to find him. “What’s going on?”
“There’s been an unfortunate accident. Close the curtain.”
“What?” he said incredulously, trying to look over my shoulder to see what was going on.
I turned him around and shoved him toward the curtains. “Close the curtains, Richard, and bring up the house lights. Chief Penhall’s orders.”
I moved over to the apron, and made my way down the stairs. People were murmuring, wondering what was going on. As the lights came on, I looked toward the right corner for Joey Ingram, and was shocked to see that he wasn’t there. I scanned the room, but he was nowhere to be found.
Mother appeared beside me. “Cam, what’s going on? Why is Mike calling for backup?”
“There’s a little problem.”
“Did one of the actors have an accident? Do we need to see if there a doctor in the crowd?”
“No, I’m afraid we’re beyond medical help.”
She clamped her hand down on my arm. “Please tell me that…someone’s not…”
“Dead,” I finished for her.
“Oh, dear Lord.”
“It will be all right, Mother,” I said, giving her a hug. “Mike will take care of things. But we can’t let anyone leave until he talks to them. Why don’t you get the waiters to come around with the dessert trays again? But whatever you do, don’t say anything about this.”
“Of course not,” she agreed. “That would just cause a mad rush of people trying to get out of here.” She started to walk away, but turned back. “Cam, do you know who it is?”
For a moment, I thought about lying to her. But it would be better if she heard the news from me and not someone else. “It’s Susan Ingram,” I said quietly.
She put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, dear Lord,” she said again.
“It will be all right, Mother. I promise. Go talk to the waiters.”
Mother nodded and hurried off. I glanced over at Dad, who had a look of concern on his face. I shook my head. He frowned, and followed Mother out of the room.
“Randy has the doors covered, and my people will be here shortly,” Mike said when he joined me back onstage. “Did you find Joey Ingram?”
I shook my head. “He wasn’t in his seat. Maybe he went to the bathroom during intermission, and didn’t get back before the house lights went down.”
“Do you remember what he was wearing?”
“Maybe a dark blue suit?” I said, trying to remember. “I’m not really sure.”
Mike took my hand. “Let’s go out outside and look around. Maybe we’ll find him if we work together.”
We passed the waiters, who were carrying dessert trays and silver coffee pots. Randy was standing by the front door, arms crossed, trying to look tough. Anyone who knew him wouldn’t believe the tough guy act for a minute. “There are three guys patrolling the parking lot to make sure no one tries to leave if they manage to slip past us,” he told us.
“Have you seen Joey Ingram?” Mike asked.
Randy shook his head. “Just Cam’s parents, the waiters, and the caterer.”
“I’ll go check the bathroom,” Mike said.
“Why are you looking for Mr. Ingram?” Randy asked me.
“I can trust you to keep this to yourself, right?”
“Of course,” he replied, looking offended. “Do you even have to ask me that?”
“Susan Ingram is dead. She’s behind the couch on the stage.”
“Holy moly,” Randy said. “Are you serious?”
I nodded. “As a heart attack.”
“How did she get in here? I mean, your mother didn’t change her mind and give her a ticket, did she?”
“Definitely not. I think I was just as worried as she was about Susan doing something to ruin this evening.”
“Well, not to be crass, but being found dead during a performance does kind of ruin things.”
“Good point.”
“Not to mention that it makes your mother a prime suspect if the police determine that Susan was murdered.”
“What? Randy, are you crazy?”
“She was overheard arguing with Susan during the dress rehearsal.”
“But she didn’t threaten to kill her!”
“No, but Susan did threaten to withhold their yearly donation to the church, did she not?”
“Yes, but that’s no reason to kill someone. It’s certainly not the first time that someone with money believes that they hold all the power because of their bank account. Donations have been withheld before, and they’ll probably be withheld in the future. You just learn to adapt.”
“Don’t forget you also had words with her that same night. That will certainly make you a suspect as well.”
“Well, aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine tonight?”
Randy smiled. “Moonbeam, actually. It is nighttime. I do have one question for you. Why was Joey Ingram here if his wife wasn’t on the guest list?”
“Susan refused to come because she wasn’t put in charge,” I said. “She made it quite clear that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with any part of this dinner or the show. When she found out that Showalter was going to be here, she demanded that Mother give her a seat. Mother refused, not out of spite, but because there were no available seats. I don’t know why Joey is here. This doesn’t seem to be his type of thing.”
Mike came back, shaking his head. “I can’t find Joey anywhere. I looked everywhere, but given the size of the park, he could have easily gotten away without being seen. You forgot to put someone on the back door, Randy.”
“I didn’t even think about it,” Randy replied. “The caterer’s van is out there, and she’s been going in and out all night. Did you ask her if anyone had come through there?”
“She wasn’t outside when I was there.”
“Maybe she’s in the main room, helping the waiters,” I suggested.
“Where was she when you saw her, Randy?”
“Standing by the buffet tables, talking to Charlotte. After that, I don’t know.”
Mike pulled me aside. “Listen,” he said quietly, “this was not how I expected our evening to go.”
“I know.”
“I’m not sure how long I’m going to be here, but it will probably be late.”
“It’s part of your job, Mike. I knew that when we started dating. I’m fine with it.”
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
We could hear the sirens getting closer. He gave me a quick kiss. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“As much as it pains me to say this, keep your ears open. You might hear something that people won’t be willing to tell the police.”
“You want the gossip.”
“I want the gossip.”
“Can I enlist Randy’s help?”
Mike shook his head. “Not directly. Just ask him later what people were saying as they were leaving. Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.” Giving me a kiss on the cheek, he squeezed my hands and went outside.
“Okay, so for a cop, he’s not too bad,” Mac said from behind me.
It took everything I had not to scream. “I’m sure he’ll be glad you approve.”
“I didn’t say that,” Mac replied. “I’m just impressed that he wants to make sure you get home all right.”
“We can’t really talk here,” I told him.
“I get it. You don’t want people to know that you talk to ghosts.”
“Something like that.”
“I can respect that. It’s kind of like snitching to the cops about what’s going on in the casinos. You don’t want to be seen ratting people out, so to speak.”
“Is that what happened to you?”
“Are you crazy? Do I seem like the kind of person who has a death wish?”
I didn’t say anything.
He thought about it for a moment. “Well, that was awkward, wasn’t it? Although a ghost with a death wish has to be some kind of joke.”
“Why don’t you float around the room, see if you can learn anything? People might say something to each other that they won’t say to me or the police.”
“But that’s snitching.”
“Look at it as being a ghostly investigator.”
“The invisible cop,” he nodded. “I can live with that.”
“You know where to find me. Try knocking or something first, though.”
“I’ll do my best.”
I returned to the main room. People were still in their seats, enjoying their coffee, but many of them were looking around uncomfortably. They knew something was going on; several speculated aloud that one of the actors had fallen and literally broken a leg. I headed for our table, and found a piece of apple pie sitting on the table in front of my chair. “Thank you, Mother,” I said gratefully as I sat down.
“People have been asking me what’s going on, and I don’t know what to tell them,” she said as I took a bite of pie. “Do you think we should make some kind of announcement?”
“And say what? ‘I’m terribly sorry, but there’s been a murder, and you all will be questioned individually by the police?’” I whispered.
“We have to do something,” she replied, “before they all start trying to leave.”
Sighing, I picked up my phone and sent Mike a quick text, asking him what he wanted me to do. I looked at his reply and shook my head. “You win. Mike wants me to say something while he sets up a perimeter around the building.”
“So what are you going to say?” Mother asked as my phone dinged again.
“I’ll wing it,” I replied, taking another bite before I stood up. Making my way toward the stage, I smiled and nodded at people, but I didn’t stop to answer any of the questions that were thrown my way. As I climbed the steps to the stage, I could hear quiet sobbing from behind the curtain.
Stepping to the middle of the apron, I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, folks. If I could have your attention for a minute.” Everyone turned to look at me, and immediately I got nervous. I didn’t like speaking in front of crowds.
“What’s going on, Cam?” someone called out.
“First of all, the committee would like to thank all of you coming out and supporting our community theatre group. The response to this event has been overwhelming, and I know that there are already discussions to do this again in a few months.”
“Why? We haven’t even finished seeing tonight’s show!” someone else said.
“That’s true, but I assure you that we will arrange for you to see the show on a different night, free of charge. But the rest of tonight’s performance has been cancelled, I’m afraid.”
People started to complain, and there was the sound of chairs scraping the floor. “However, I’m afraid that you can’t leave just yet,” I said loud enough to be heard.
“Why not?” Walt said from our table.
Everyone looked back at me. “Well, because there’s been a little accident on the stage, and the police will want to talk to you before you leave.”
There were plenty sounds of righteous indignation at the idea of being interviewed by the police. Thankfully, Mike came from stage right to stand next to me. “Chief Penhall, I demand that you tell us exactly what’s going on right now, or I will be filing a formal complaint in the morning,” Charles Prufrock Jr. said.
I sighed. Prufrock was a local lawyer, and a royal pain in the buns. We had an encounter with him last year, and he had certainly not endeared himself to me, and vice versa.
“Calm down, Mr. Prufrock,” Mike told him. “There has been an unfortunate accident tonight, and someone has passed away.”
Gasps could be heard all through the room, and again, people stood up to leave. “This is not going well,” I said quietly.
“It never does,” Mike replied. He gave a shrill whistle, and everyone stopped moving. “I’m sorry, folks, but like Ms. Shaw said, I’m afraid you can’t leave until you talk to one of my officers. If we all work together, it shouldn’t take more than two or three hours. Until then, the caterer has assured me that there are plenty of desserts and coffee. If you need to go to the bathroom, one of my officers will escort you.”
“Who died?” Regina Lopez, one of the baristas at the coffeehouse, asked.
“You’re going to find out sooner or later, so I’ll go ahead and tell you. It was Susan Ingram.”